


in the dark, i feel your warmth

by fancytropes



Category: Asian BL, Boys' Love - Fandom, Crossing the Line - Fandom, HIStory 2 Crossing the Line, History 2
Genre: Childhood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 19:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14220126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancytropes/pseuds/fancytropes
Summary: The aftermath of the kidnapping keeps young Whang Zhen Wen sleepless. Thankfully, he doesn't have to be alone.





	in the dark, i feel your warmth

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys. :) i'm a huge fan of BL drama and HIStory 2: Crossing the Line is a definite favorite - the brothers were a true delight - so much that it finally led me to write my first, short fanfiction. 
> 
> i wanted to create a sort of prequel to the canon storyline - particularly Zhen Wen's kidnapping incident.this story obviously makes room for a possible next chapter, though it can be a standalone as well. understandably, many here are products of my imagination, but i tried hard to stick to the heart of the series and its characters. please comment if you spot errors! 
> 
> on that note, i hope you read it, and if you do, please be gentle with me. i really hope you like it, because writing this was incredibly helpful to me. :) thank you!
> 
> -

 

The nightmares replayed like a movie trailer - a small, rickety room with holed roofs, the gun against his temple as sweat trickled down his spine, the gunshot and exploded guts before his eyes.

Yet as clear as they were in his head, the whole experience had become more bearable now, far from the first few days after the, erm, incident.

Of course, there were less nightmares because there was less sleep, and Whang Zhen Wen lacks an understandable lot in that department lately. As if a cruel testament to everything, the wound on his forehead still throbbed like hell. His father had excused him from school for five weeks now and did not let him do activities that may compromise his safety, which meant no walking farther than two blocks without any company. He can be paranoid at times.

“I just love you so much, Zhen Wen. You know that, right? Tell me what else you need,” his father had told him, perhaps permanently on the verge of tears.

“Bà, no need to worry about me anymore,” he replied. “I’m okay now.”

Zhen Wen was definitely not okay, but his father has been nothing but good, taking it upon himself to raise a six-year-old son when Zhen Wen’s mother died. The last thing he needed was another burden, and Zhen Wen was not about to ask for more than he could provide. He wolfed down a whole plate when his father’s cooking was bad; he massaged his feet when he got home from work; he forced a smile, even after having been told this time a couple years ago he was going to have a new mom. Even when the new mom brought along a new kid, too.

But that was long ago. Now 13, Zhen Wen didn’t know then he’d be more than grateful for the new company.

The vacation did give him lots of free time, though, which meant lots of lazy afternoons and cold, sleepless nights, rereading old manhuas and staring at posters of the Avengers and local and foreign bands he wished he could see play live, but remain static on his room’s wall.

Scanning the room showed an overview of Zhen Wen’s boring life—turn the lights on and see walls painted a welcoming mix of cerulean and white like the summer skies that bore witness to his greasy childhood; stacks of old video games he still played occasionally, and two controllers: one used for a long time, the other for just two years; a ukulele; a portrait of his family.

His expanded family.

He refused to talk about the incident, even with them. At least not in detail. How apt it was now that the lights were off and the walls had no power to take him to his childhood. It delivered him, instead, to where he had looked up for four nights as the moonlight wafted through the holes on the house’s roof. 

When a police officer asked him for details the night he was rescued, Wen had been so shaken up he couldn’t speak. More than a month later, the memory of those five days holed up in that ramshackle house, with little hope and much horror, still tied him up in a bind.

It was half past two in the morning; he couldn’t think about this now. Yet there was no alternative.

It sucked that the only reason he was able to get through five weeks without breaking down completely was asleep in the next room by now.

 _Whang Zhen Wu_ . The boy he had grown accustomed to calling as brother, the one who changed his name from _Chang Li Qin_ so casually. Was it so everyone would know they were brothers? Wasn’t changing the last name enough? Was he proud they were brothers? Zhen Wen was the one that should be proud. If the past month had been any indication, he definitely felt loved and cared for.

On the first night after Zhen Wen was discharged from the three-day hospital confinement, Zhen Wu insisted on sleeping beside him, much to their parents’ strong agreement. Zhen Wen didn’t exactly like the idea until midnight came, when he jolted awake from his nightmares, sweating, only to calm down after feeling the weight of his brother’s right arm on his chest.

“You okay?” Zhen Wu’s eyes had been fixed on him, eyebrows furrowed.

It had taken him a while to respond, and he knew his face must have spelled horror. “Yeah… I guess.”

“Is it okay if I do this?”

Zhen Wen felt his brother's grip on his body tighten. He gave no response as he closed his eyes, but he didn’t say no either. He did not mind the arm that did not let go of him; it allowed him, in a way, to feel what he could not for a long time: safety. When Zhen Wen woke up for the second time, the nightmares did not follow.

Yet they had been doomed to the same fate in the next five weeks. Waking up at the wee dawn hours was terribly exhausting, and Wen did not need his brother to suffer through the same. As much as he had taken comfort in his brother’s embrace, it was beyond embarrassing.

Besides, Zhen Wen was well aware of the flip side: guilt has been haunting his brother, long after that day he was kidnapped, when they had a dumb fight and Zhen Wu chose to leave him alone on the walk home and play volleyball instead. Zhen Wu was never to blame, he knew that. But Zhen Wen couldn’t lie to himself either: those times at that room, he had more than once wished his brother never left him.

Maybe they would have been both kidnapped. Maybe the situation would have been worse. But at least they would have been together.

He hated himself for thinking that.

Zhen Wu, a year older than Zhen Wen, began prioritizing him more than his own, following him wherever he went and being crazy suspicious of strangers around them. Wen rarely ever went out, of course, which made it worse, since Zhen Wu started missing volleyball practice at his junior high varsity team. He would go home straight to his brother’s side.

Any average seventh grader would understand his brother’s actions have gone overboard even for a stepbrother; Zhen Wen could not rob him of his young life.

Three nights earlier, it took Zhen Wen countless promises at the dining table - “I’ll be okay! You’re thinking too much, I’ll be okay!” - before finally driving Zhen Wu away from his bedroom. He had worn a convincingly annoyed face, claiming Zhen Wu has already invaded his personal space enough.

As his mind sauntered off to the odd boy in the next room, he wondered why he was now doing the same.

 _I’m sure he’s worried and I just need to see if he’s sleeping_ , Wen thought. _If he doesn’t open the door, he’s good._

He’s got to have his brother’s back, too, after all.

Zhen Wen quietly walked to his brother’s room and knocked, hoping to find him sleeping, but had a minor panic attack when the door swang open fast. “Ah! Oh. You’re still awake, eh?”

“Zhen Wen,” Zhen Wu answered, dark circles visible around his eyes. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t sleep? You want me in your room?”

Zhen Wen dropped his eyes to his brother’s chin. He was a few inches shorter, and he didn’t mind that. “Nah. I just wanted to make sure you’re asleep. Why aren’t you, anyway?”

“I was just about to check up on you.”

Zhen Wen stifled a laugh and raised an eyebrow. “Psh. You’re so worried about me!” He was about to rant about having such a doting stepbrother but cut his comment short when he met his gaze - narrow, glassy eyes that must have seen right through him. Zhen Wen’s face straightened.

“Did you have nightmares?”

“No,” he quickly replied. “I haven’t slept yet but don’t worry about me. I’m actually curious if you’re okay without me! But please take a rest. I’m the one supposed to be having the nightmares, right?”

That was a lighthearted joke by all means, but it was incredibly stupid of him nonetheless. He certainly felt the heavy atmosphere dawn on them, along with the familiar heaviness in his chest. His breathing quickened, and he was no longer looking at Zhen Wu, but to the memory -

 _No. It’s over_ . He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head hard. Before the warehouse, the gun, the face of his captor, and blood spilled all over him, Zhen Wen forced himself to snap back. _It’s over_. Zhen Wu was about to put his hand on his shoulder - his brother’s display of affection - but drew it back as Wen flinched and turned his back to him. “I’m going to sleep. Just please rest.”

“Hey-”

But the boy had already sprinted back to his room, closing the door behind him just as quickly.

***

Zhen Wen’s staring contest with the ceiling had lasted a minute before he finally gave in. When he touched the gauze on his forehead, it delivered a pang of remorse.

All that checking up on his brother idea had been a lie for sure. He was now certain sleeping alone meant being kidnapped, and being kidnapped meant dying, and dying meant being alone, except forever.

He was just 13 years old. Three nights pretending to be okay was too much.

He only had time to raise the blanket to his face before letting out long, muffled sobs, praying no one would hear him. Or maybe someone hearing his cry for help wasn’t such a bad idea, too.

He didn’t want to be alone. And now he was.

Since that early evening he was taken away, Zhen Wen had been afraid of the world, and a twisted fate that may yet again steal him away from his father, his new mother, and Zhen Wu. He shivered at the thought of losing them, lost from them, before he is plunged into another unknown place that may trap him forever.

Eyes painfully shut, Zhen Wen must have sobbed a little bit too loudly that he didn’t hear the door creaking open and the soft tiptoes to his bed, before the weight of another body lay on its side next to him, warm and comforting, his arm and leg pushing through the blanket and lacing all around his body.

“Zhen Wen, I’m so sorry for everything, Please, Wen. Please, please, please. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m here, Wen...”

And he may have been tempted to curse at the whole world for all the nightmares and the trauma and his sheer weakness to overcome it all - but in the horrible dark, Zhen Wen’s first instinct was to turn and hug his brother back just as tightly, hungrily burying his face into his chest, so desperately closing the gap between them until all he could hear was the fast beating of Zhen Wu’s heart as he soaked his shirt with his tears, clinging for dear life until the dreamless night carried him away. #

 


End file.
